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Cyras DeValera
=Appearance= The least important thing about Cyras. He is non-descript, certainly not like a mercenary captain. Average height, average weight. Wiry with a full mane of black hair and steel blue eyes. Very forgetful unless he draws a blade or is intoxicated and mouths off. =Personality= It is easier to be infamous than famous. This certainly epitomizes the Captain of the Brigade. Cyras is a risk taker with his own life and generally the lives of his closest friends, whom have grown used to the brash, somewhat cold manner in which he deals with people. Cyras does little that does not benefit the Brigade in some way, especially the Brigade's coffers or legacy. He is a strong believer in completing the contract and ensuring his men are paid for their blood and sweat. He is extremely protective of the men serving with him, whom refers to as his "brothers". He will tolerate a lot more personal disrespect than professional. Crossing the Brigade, especially when the bill is due, is unforgivable in Cyras' eyes. Cyras is generally a disciplined personality that plays his cards close to his vest. His long time friends know that the cold, callous demeanor he presents to the world has grown out of his experience at the helm of the Midnight Brigade and when you get to know him, he is an alright guy. Cyras is known to wax poetic in his personal command journal about the Brigade and it's history. =History= There is only one notable event in the life of Cyras DeValera, the day he was killed on the battlefield in Samara and was simultaneously resurrected.. At the Siege of Samara, Cyras was killed. Numerous Brigadiers saw him die, his bloody body was drug back to the Brigade`s lines by his horse before it too fell over and died.. "Awaken, Cyras", a harsh voice whispered in my ears. Slowly my senses started working, synapses passing back and forth through my mind. I cringed, the last thing I saw was a giant demon of C`thandria bearing down upon me with his curved blade. Instinctually I reached for my abdomen, the blade had passed right through, I remembered. Blood everywhere, my own blood, I was going to die. "Awaken, Cyras", the voice called again. I opened my eyes and was startled at what I saw. Before me, a plane of darkness on all sides. Strangely illuminated from everywhere, it seemed more gray now that I had time to digest it all. "About damned time." "Captain," I said, looking up at the grizzly soldier before me. It was and wasn`t my Captain, the one who I had sworn the oath to, he seemed younger, but just as dead. "I`ve failed." I said hollowly, "I`ve failed the Brigade, I`ve lead them to disaster." Crawling into myself, the world around me started to darken. "Don`t start that now, pup", my Captain said gruffly. "No time for self pity, we just don`t have enough of it." He booted me in the ass and I rebounded to my feet infront of him, old habits. For the first time really noticing my surroundings, I saw a stone arch behind the Captain. "Where the hell are we?" I asked, finally seeing the others. "You are exactly right," he replied while laughing. "This is the gateway to the beyond." I started walking past him, inexorably drawn between the twin arches of the worn stone gate. A wind erupted from it`s hollow depths. He put a hand across my chest, holding me back. "Not yet, kid." Looking at him, then the space between the gateway, my curiousity was piqued. He shook his head again. "Your future isn`t through those gates, well, not yet anyway.." He seemed to be thinking this through as if he had not considered something. Shaking his head, he looked me square in the eyes. "Your future is back with the Brigade." "What Brigade, Captain?" I replied immediately. "I was trying to tell you, the Brigade is gone, I`ve failed you all!" I gestured to the spirits floating around him as if I did this all the time, by now having guessed they were my ancestors, Brigade brothers from time`s past. Even in the afterlife it appears we cannot just pick a side. "Not quite," he said with that look in his eye that said he had something wicked nasty up his sleeve. "Kneel, Cyras." A wind kicked up around us, like the driest, hot desert air being stirred by an ashfilled cyclone. I could taste it in my mouth, it reminded me of C`thandria. "I said KNEEL!" A force compelled me to my knees infront of him and the captains who had come before me. The world around us seemed to be breaking loose it`s rational coil, the earthen ground broke into pieces and flew around, black smoke started filling the air. "You will swear another oath, the Oath of Fallen Captains," he explained. "Your Brigade and your command are destroyed, your body and swords broken. Already the survivors of the Brigade are being collected and sold into bondage to foreign masters." His eyes burned brighter as he continued. "Your bones may be broken, but your spirit cannot die," my Captain said softly while drawing a magnificent sword. Thick at it`s base and all the way to a point, it reminded me of one of the eastern empire`s great blades, only so much more. Strange glyphs were carved through it`s hilt and pommel, across the bladeguard. They shined brightly as my Captain started to speak. "Let ye not pass into the planes of darkness. Return to the world from whence ye came and seek payment, not only for thine own anguish, but vindicate the souls of the unavenged," he intoned along with the multiple of souls swirling around him. "Take your payment in blood and anguish, reap the whirlwind upon those who have sown the wind and betrayed our brotherhood. If you fall, for every dawn you die, every evening you shall awaken. Only when the covenent is fulfilled will you find rest, Dark Avenger." When he placed the sword into my hands, he disappeared in clap of thunder, a dark cloud of anger. The dark world shattered and fell apart. Earth swirled and collided with the gates of the aether and brought them crashing down. All around me, spirits howled, women and children cried out, carrion called to one another through the void. Suddenly, the darkness was broken, revealing a clear blue sky and a hot desert wind. I coughed up blood and turned over to retch. As I reached out for earth to hold onto through the shuddering of my insides, my fingertips brushed against a hard pommel. Next to me was the sword, black steel glistening between pommel and sheath. I shuddered from it for a moment, the weight of my charge firmly upon my shoulders. I drew the black sword, Vengeance, and plunged it`s tip into the ground lustfully, hungrily. Kneeling before it like a holy relic, I placed both hands upon it`s jewelled pommel and intoned the oath as it was given, lightning crashed in the distance and I felt it`s power within my soul. Raising once more to my feet, covered in blood, dust, and gore, I returned the black sword to it`s sheath and slung it over my shoulder. Starting to walk away from the spot of my resurrection, something chilled my soul. Behind me, I heard a deep, gutteral throat being cleared. Turning, a horse the color of the darkness from which I had just been expelled stood, calm and immune to the carnage around it. Cut out from the shadowy background of the Aether, I expected it`s eyes shined brightly with hatred for all of the living, except for this very moment. Looking at me expectantly, almost as if it was annoyed by my dawdling, I laughed heartily at the great joke on behalf of my ancestors. "I suppose you are also an instrument of those old men?" I asked the horse. To it`s credit, it appeared even more piqued at my talking to it. Looking the other way, it watched the lightning chase itself across the northern wastes. "Ha!" I barked, the look so comical,"Fine, I shall name you Black Death, and together we shall make history right for the unavenged." Sliding on to Black Death`s broad back, I kicked his sides and galloped to the north, ignorant of the long miles before me..